


Ryan Atwood, you asshole

by rosac



Category: The OC
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosac/pseuds/rosac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth takes a rare trip to Newport, and things are like they usually are between him and Ryan, until they're not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ryan Atwood, you asshole

Seth arrives on a Friday afternoon, and even though it’s the middle of February he can walk out of the airport in a t-shirt and a cardigan. It feels good. Weird but good. No icy winds are forcing him to put on the jacket in his bag, good to breathe Californian air again. Good to be home. Even if it’s not a totally accurate definition of Newport, because Newport hasn’t been ‘home’ for many years now. But the homey feelings are racing though his veins and he’s smiling while he puffs on his Marlboro.

The cab ride to his parents’ house takes no time at all. Before he can blink, he’s standing in the driveway again, and it looks exactly the same as last time he was here. Well, maybe there was a little less orange in the flowerbeds. Anyway, his mother comes rushing out and throws herself at him. He hugs her tight and she is crying on his shoulder.

“You’re home! Oh Seth, it’s so good to see you! How was the flight, no trouble? Are you hungry? The dinner is still hot.”

“I promise, it’s straight out of the cardboard box,” his father laughs and waits until his wife has untangled herself before he too hugs their son. Only he does it the manly way, with the backclapping. One clap, two, three claps, Seth counts.

In the kitchen, which has been painted a soothing green, Sandy fishes the Thai out of the plastic bags.

“Ryan said he’d be a little late. Lots to do at work.”

Seth grabs a beer from the fridge. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. But he’s fine, right, our little Caleb Jr?”

“He’s doing so well. So focused,” Kirsten smiles proudly. “Amanda is going nuts of course, what with Ryan always at the office…”

“But I said to her that when it comes to Ryan, it’s all or nothing,” Sandy cuts in.

“Plus, he likes working. He’s happy.”

Seth nods. “That’s awesome. As long as he’s happy.”

She gives him a pair of chopsticks. “Now, let’s fatten you up. I swear Seth Ezekiel, if you were any thinner even I could take you on.”

“I swear mom, you always could’ve.”

 

Seth is halfway through his pad thai when he hears him entering the front door.

“Seth? You here?”

Seth bounces off his chair and out to the hall, and sees Ryan sprinting towards him. They stop a couple of inches apart.

“Looking good, mr Atwood.”

“Well right back atcha, mr Cohen.”

And then they hug, and Seth is certain he can actually _hear_ his ribs breaking.

“It’s so good to see you,” Ryan mumbles into Seth’s shoulder.

“You too, man. You too.”

When they turn, Kirsten is standing in the doorway, all misty eyed.

“My boys,” she says. Seth grins, and from the corner of his eye he can see Ryan’s doing the same.

 

“…so maybe I could take that trip to New York instead.”

Seth nods enthusiastically and Ryan chuckles at his eagerness.

“Man, I know you can afford all those posh hotels, but you should just crash at my place then. We’ll order in and play PS3 and it’ll be just like the old days, only with beer instead of Mountain Dew.”

“That sounds awesome,” Ryan smiles.

“But…” Kirsten frowns. “I thought you were going to take Amanda to Venice this May?”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “We just got back from Madrid for god's sake."

Kirsten and Sandy share a look that Seth’s not really interested in. Ryan will stay with him in New York for a whole week! If his pretty wife doesn’t find a way to make Ryan go to pasta-land instead… Seth slumps a bit in his chair.

“Speaking of the missus, shouldn’t you be heading home soon?” he then asks in his most innocent voice.

“Actually,” Ryan looks at Sandy and Kirsten. “I thought I could spend the night here? Catching up with Seth? I called Amanda and told her earlier.”

“Ryan, there’s no need to ask. There are clean sheets in the linen closet in the poolhouse.”

Sandy laughs. “Seth upstairs, Ryan in the poolhouse… Just like old times!”

Seth raises an eyebrow and smirks into his rice noodles. Old times? _…right._

 

Twenty minutes later, Seth is pushing Ryan’s white shirt open and Ryan is kissing him until they both need an oxygen break. Ryan pushes Seth onto the newly made bed and then crawls up his body, leaving a trail of kisses on the skinny stomach, the pale chest. Seth grabs his hair and yanks him up so that Ryan is totally draping him, and then they kiss again. And they kiss. And they kiss, and god how Seth have missed him. Which he tells him.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“When Kirsten told me you would be visiting I almost came in my pants.”

“Well then let’s get you out of these,” Seth pants and pops open the button on Ryan’s khakis.

 

::

_Seth rolls off. His dorm-bed squeaks, but the music from the party going on behind the next door drowns almost all other sounds. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he leans over to grab a cigarette. When he lights it, Ryan snatches it and takes a drag._

_“When did you start smoking?”_

_“Some... six months ago? I don’t know.”_

_“It’s not like you need any nicotine. You’re practically made out of energy. Like Dr Manhattan.”_

_“Nice comic book reference. It sooths me though. Distracts my fingers.”_

_“Distract from what?” Ryan murmurs and kisses Seth’s neck._

_Seth smiles._

_“Did I hurt you?” he asks while stroking Ryan’s back with one hand._

_“Not as much as I thought it would hurt.”_

_They’re practically whispering. Seth is amazed they’re actually talking about it at all._

_“Was it as good as you thought it would be?”_

_Seth puts out his smoke and rolls back onto Ryan, who moans._

_“Yeah…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Better…”_

_Seth is kneading Ryan’s ass, licking his shoulder. They start rocking in a steady rhythm._

_“Who did it to you?”_

_“What?” Seth pauses. Ryan turns his head to look at him._

_“The first guy who ever fucked you. Was he at the party tonight?”_

_Seth snorts. “Ry, what are you talking abou-“_

_“Just tell me.”_

_Seth sighs._

_“Matt was there, the one talking to Anna most of the time? We’ve fucked once or twice.”_

_Ryan nods._

_“And then Georgie was there too. He sucked me off once in between classes.”_

_Ryan frowns._

_“Then on the way back here, I said hello to that guy by Starbucks? That’s Ben. He popped my man-cherry.”_

_“That’s enough, Seth.”_

_“Yeah. That’s enough. Or actually, they’re not, but yeah, that’s enough.”_

_Then Seth gives Ryan the best rimjob anyone has ever gotten, like, ever.  
_

::

 

When Seth wakes up, Ryan’s not there. He gets dressed in a hurry, and finds Ry and Kirsten chattering over a mountain of pancakes.

“Good morning, mother.”

Kirsten smiles. “Morning sweetie. Ryan just told me you boys fell asleep over the PlayStation.”

Seth chuckles and pours syrup over his breakfast.

“Yeah, GTA from 2004. Works like Valium.”

Ryan shakes his head and finishes his coffee.

“Anyway, I gotto go.”

Seth looks up. “Dude, wait! I wanna see your new office, come on!”

“Right, but then you have two minutes to finish those pancakes, ‘cause I’m going.”

 

They get into the car and Ryan puts on a pair of sunglasses. Armani, Seth reads on the frames. Jesus and Moses, is this guy really Ryan? He smells like Ryan, talks – or make that _non-talks_ \- like Ryan… he definitely feels like Ryan. But so much has changed, Seth thinks. He reaches for the black CD-case.

“Journey, Journey, Best of Metallica, Journey… Ry, what’s this?”

Ryan glances over to the blank CD Seth’s holding.

“You gave that to me. Sometime during college.”

Seth turns it over. “ _The Super Secret Seth/Ryan Mix 2007?_  ...oh wait, I remember this!”

“Yeah? Pretty mopey if you ask me. But the Strokes-song is pretty good. Put it on.”

Seth does.

“There was a letter too. To that CD. But I don’t think I ever gave it to you.”

“Yeah? What did it say?”

Then Seth’s cell rings.

“Yep?”

_“Seth? It’s me. How’s Newport? You’re giving it the finger from me?”_

“It’s all right. And I just arrived last night, I’ve hardly had time to give it my own.”

_“So, I’ve watered the cheese plant and sorted your mail. And you have like ten thousand messages from Pete.”_

“I know, he called my cell phone as well. But fuck that.”

_“Yeah yeah, we'll have a good cry about it when you're back. So, how’s Ryan? Send my love.”_

“He’s good, we’re all good.”

_“Did you…?”_

Seth rolls his eyes. Not that the woman on the other end of the line can see that.

“Anna, come on.” Ryan looks over at him and mouths ‘Tell her I said hi’.

“He heys you back, by the way.”

_“You did, didn’t you? Seth, come on…”_

“I know, I know.”

_“He’s married now.”_

“I know.”

_“And you live here. Across the country.”_

“I know.”

 _“You two got, like,_ the _most dysfunctional relationship. On the planet. And that's saying something, considering Pete...”_

"I know, Anna.”

The silence is a little long and a little uncomfortable – Anna gets her message across clearly.

_“Anyway, that was all I wanted to say. You take care and I’ll call you tomorrow.”_

“Okay, see you in a few days.”

_“Love you.”_

“You too.”

He flips the phone shut, lights a cigarette. Ryan presses a button so the window on his side rolls down. Seth takes a drag and blows the smoke out through the window, into the California air. It's still okay, Seth thinks. Still okay.

“So, how’s Anna? She’s still with that magician?”

“Fred? Yeah. And dude, apparently we're supposed to say 'illusionist'? I don't know. But they got engaged a couple of weeks ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Seth takes another drag and drops his head back against the headrest.

“She’s awesome. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She makes sure I’m alright, you know? That I don’t have coffee instead of real dinner, don’t work too much during weekends.” Seth turns to look at Ryan. “But I’ve got one ole' habit that she just can’t make me quit, and that bugs her.”

Ryan’s lips are a tight line. The Armani glasses won’t let Seth know if he’s watching him or the road.

"Yeah, I've heard those things kills you," Ryan mumbles. Seth snorts. They really are awesome at playing this game.

The ten more minutes it takes for them to arrive at the office building passes without conversation, only mopey music from the car stereo. Seth closes his eyes and hums along.

 

The office is huge. Pretty much the same size as Seth’s studio space, only not filled with jars of paint, piles of half-finished canvases, enormous rolls of photo paper and vintage furniture. Everything in here is brand new, polished and _very Ryan’s-new-life_ , Seth thinks. “Big,” he says.

“Yeah,” Ryan answers and sits down behind the mahogany desk. A blueprint on paperboard is leaning next to it, probably waiting for its presentation. The phone rings.

“Ryan Atwood.”

Seth walks around the office, inspecting the prints on the walls. Most are sketches of houses the company’s made, but there’s a Dalí print too, the one with the melting clocks. Ryan’s college degree and a couple of awards. The Man of the Year Award he received two years ago, for putting the Newport Group back on its feet. Seth had flied to Newport for the big event. Then he fucked Ryan behind the rosebushes.

“That was Amanda. She wants you to come have dinner at the house tonight.”

“Sure.” Seth smiles, and he wonders if Ryan can see how hard he’s working for it. “Now I’ll leave you to work, but I’ll see you tonight then?”

“See you tonight.”

 

::

_Room service brought them strawberries, and Seth is feeding them to Ryan. He’s got whipped cream all over his chest, so first he dips the strawberry on himself. Ryan chuckles and licks Seth’s nipples clean. They probably stink. Seth's _chest hair is slicked against his skin in some weird design that Ryan's making with his fingertips.__

_“Don’t go home,” Seth begs in between kisses._

_“I’ve got to. Work.”_

_“I need you as much as the Newport Group. More, even.” Ryan’s hand is teasing him now, stroking the inside of Seth’s thighs._

_“You have more important things to do than hang around with me all weekend.”_

_“I don't have to ship the shit to the gallery until the end of October. Next meeting with the curator is in two weeks. I’ve got time to… hang around some more.”_

_“Don’t call it shit. And my plane leaves tomorrow, sorry.”_

_Seth shudders as Ryan finally gives his cock a playful stroke._

_Seth’s iPhone beeps. He sighs and reaches for it while Ryan keeps pumping his fist up and down. He takes a look at the display and puts the phone back next to the hotel bed._

_“Who was that?” Ryan asks before dipping his tongue into Seth’s navel._

_“Uh… no one.”_

_Ryan looks up and gives Seth a Look. He jerks him faster._

_“A guy… ooh… A guy I’ve been seeing, okay? …don’t stop man...”_

_“You’re dating?”_

_“Oh god… Yeah, something like that…”_

_“What’s his name?”_

_“Ryan… Oh sweet Jesus and Moses, ooh… Pete… His name’s Pete…”_

_“Is he cute?” Ryan licks the tip of his cock. Seth’s gripping the sheets so tight they might rip._

_“He’s a fucking god,_ oh god _, but that’s not… not important…”_

_Ryan swallows him and soon after that Seth’s world goes blank for a bit. When he’s coherent again, Ryan kisses him and Seth curls up in his arms._

_“I’ve been seeing someone too,” Ryan whispers into the Jewfro. “Her name’s Amanda.”_

_“Yeah?” Seth slurs. He’s tired now, and Ryan always confuses him like this._

_“Yeah.”_

_They’re falling asleep._

_“I think I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”  
_

::

 

Amanda looks like a perfect little Newpsie, Seth can’t help but think. The highlights in her hair, her perfectly manicured nails, the dangerously high heels. Radiantly beautiful, of course. _She's perfect, perfect for Ryan_ , Seth thinks and kisses the air around her face. Right, kiss. Left, kiss. She’s got one of his hands in hers. He's not certain, but he thinks he can kind of feel her weddig band pressing against one of his knuckles.

“Always nice to see you, Seth,” she smiles. He smiles back, and the only person who could possibly see how fake that smile is, is standing behind the woman he's giving it to.

“Come on in man,” Ryan says. Seth follows the couple. He's quite sure he can feel the taste of bile in his mouth.

 

The lounge is huge. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows there's a view of a pool the size of Texas, and as he enters the kitchen his nose starts itching in schock from the green arrangements taking over the room.

“Growing your own herbs?” he asks and sniffs at an oregano bush.

“It really lifts the food to a whole new level,” Amanda twitters. Ryan chuckles.

“What’s so funny, darling?” she asks and stirs in one of the pots that, Seth must admit, smells wonderful.

“No, I just thought of Carl,” Ryan winks at Seth.

“Oh, Carl my compadre. He was a good friend of mine during the college years,” Seth grins. Ryan laughs out loud.

“Carl was a cannabis-plant,” Ryan explains, which turns Amanda’s puzzled face into a frown.

“You were such a pothead,” Ryan says fondly and slaps Seth over the head. Seth makes a face, then decides to get back with some serious tickling. Ryan squeals and Seth chases him out of the room. They race upstairs. Seth catches Ryan by the collar and they lean back against a wall, panting. (Seth breathing is harsher than Ryans', who’s probably never been in better shape. _Ryan Atwood, you asshole_ , Seth thinks.) Ryan takes Seth’s hand and pulls him trough a door.

“This is the bedroom.”

The big bed in the middle of the room is drowning in decorative pillows, and Seth can’t help himself.

“Ry, where have you gone?”

“What?”

Seth walks over to the photographs in pretty frames. A Chrismukkah family picture. Graduation. Seth and him. Amanda with what Seth assumes are relatives of hers.

And of course, the wedding picture.

“What did you say?” Ryan asks again.

Seth sighs. “Furniture with flower patterns. Frilly pillows. Martha Stewart. Where have you gone, man?” he asks softly while watching a photo of himself, arm around Ryan in all his former glory. Wifebeater. Wristcuff. He turns and compares the images.

White collar. 250$ tie. Yeah.

Ryan takes the silver frame out of his hand and looks at it. He shoots Seth a _quit-it_ look and puts the photo back.

“Let’s go back downstairs. Food’s probably ready any second,” he says, but Seth reaches for his hand, so they stay still.

They kiss, carefully. Not frantic, not needy. Just tasting each other’s lips, just trying to find something, because Seth’s sure something’s missing here and he wants it to come back.

“Come back here,” he whispers. Ryan snorts.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You're the one who left.”

“No,” Seth breathes. “I may be gone, but at least I’m not lost.” Ryan frowns, eyes closed.

“Is that a quote from something? Are you trying to sound  _wise?_ ”

Seth smiles. “Let’s go see what Martha has cooked up for us.”

"Seth, don't..."

"I wasn't gonna wait for you forever, dude. I couldn't take care of it for you, I can't take care of it for you now. I'm done with trying to fix people's problems, Ryan, and it's funny how I keep finding myself in situations like that since I can hardly take care of myself!"

He's positively yelling at the end. He doesn't know how that happened. Ryan is biting his teeth together very hard. Seth can se tiny muscles in his jaw twitching.

"Yeah, let's eat."

 

::

_”I’m gay.”_

_Kirsten chokes on her bread roll, and Sandy just kind of stares at him. Then he smiles, and Seth blinks._

_“Just thought you should know.”_

_Ryan’s looking horrified._

_When Kirsten has finished coughing, she looks at him all teary-eyed._

_“That’s okay sweetheart. You know we love you.”_

_Seth nods and looks fondly at his parents. “Yeah, I do.”_

_“So, is there anyone special?” Sandy asks and sips on his water._

_“Actually, there is. That’s why I thought this would be a good time to tell you.”_

_Ryan is alarmingly red in the face._

_“His name is Pete. He’s 28, works at a gallery where I’ll be having an exhibition in a few months. Likes old movies and spicy food.”_

_Sandy clasps Seth's shoulder._

_“So when will we get to meet him?”_

_“I was thinking this year he too should experience the über-holiday that I like to call Chrismukkah. If that’s okay with you guys.”_

_Kirsten nods, “That sounds wonderful. Ryan, doesn’t that sound wonderful?”_

_Ryan jerks. “Yeah! Yeah, great.” He looks at Seth. “Good for you man.”_

_“Thanks Ryan,” Seth says and asks the waiter for another Corona.  
_

::

 

The next day Seth spends with the parental units. His mother drags him to some Newpsie meeting about another pseudo-charity. Later, Seth and his father takes a walk to the beach. Sandy wants to surf, but Seth passes and they get back to the house to watch the DVD they picked up earlier. Kirsten is making popcorn when they enter the kitchen.

“You boys – sorry, _men_ \- had fun?”

“You should’ve seen the waves!” Sandy grins. “But Seth didn’t want to try them out, so we’re home for our Hollywood hit.”

“It’s February! A time of year when old men like yourself shouldn’t even think about jumping into the water. If all was as it should be, we would’ve ice-skated home! Anyway, we picked up a classic.” Seth waves the DVD casette.

"You've been away from Cali for too long, son," Sandy says and shakes his head.

“Oh, _Giant_ ,” Kirsten nods. “Doesn’t Pete love James Dean?”

Seth leans onto the kitchen island. “Yeah… But I haven’t watched dear JD with him for a while now.”

Kirsten looks at him, eyes suddenly sad. “What happened?” It’s funny how his mother can read him so well.

“We wanted different things.”

“That’s a shame. I liked Pete,” Sandy says.

“Yeah. Me too. I guess sometimes, that's not enough.” Sandy pats Seth on his shoulder. Seth carries the bowl of popcorn to the sofa.

Halfway through the film, Anna calls again and Seth excuses himself.

_“What are you doing?”_

“Watching an oldie with the ‘rents, and you?”

_“Freddie and I had a fight. I’m drowning my sorrows.”_

Seth starts climbing the stairs up to his old room. “Oh. Always a good way to deal. I know this from experience.”

_“He said I’m playing games! When you’re engaged, I told him, you’ve gotten over the whole hot-and-cold thing. He said needed to sort out my priorities! I said WHAT??”_

“Anna, calm down, you sound like Summer.”

_“She’s in town for a few days, did you know? We had coffee yesterday, she told me to tell you to 'Get over it, Cohen'.”_

“Yes yes, I knew that, we talked the other week. Where are you?”

_“In your apartment. I couldn’t stay with Fred tonight.”_

“Okay look. Help yourself to all and any booze you can find-“

_“As if I haven’t already…”_

“And I’ll be home tomorrow. Okay?”

_“Thank you. Is it okay if I borrow your toothbrush?”_

“No. Feel free to take Pete’s though, it’s the blue one.”

_“Ew, no thank you.”_

“You really do sound like Summer.”

_“ _Thank you though, really. What a fucking pair we are, huh?_ See you tomorrow.”_

“Love you.”

 

He’s standing in 2003 all of a sudden. Death Cab posters and maps of the Pacific on the walls. His old Macintosh. Schoolbooks in a pile. A skateboard leaning against his old desk. Seth feels something tug at his heart. He touches the wood. Spins a wheel.

He opens his old closet and takes out a red Adidas hoodie. It still fits. Grabs the board. Halfway out the door he yells to the parents that he’ll be home soon.

Just like old times.

When he jumps up onto it at first, he’s just a little scared – it must have been at least five or six years since he last was on a board. But it’s like riding a bike, and soon he’s doing ollies and kickflips all the way down to the Crab Shack, and he’s laughing for himself, and the wheels are stroking the concrete with the sweetest of sounds.

For a moment he misses it. New sneakers and a Crab Roll in his hand and Ryan behind him on his bike and Californian air. Making out with Summer on a Kissing Booth. Saving Marissa from whatever danger she was in at the moment.

When he could walk into a party and say “Cocaine. That’s awesome,” with sarcasm instead of a dead serious smile. When sex with a girl named Alex was considered the greatest moment in his life, instead of having had sex with half a dozen guys named Alex and only remembering one of their faces. When hanging out with Ryan didn’t include orgasms, however mind-blowing they might be from time to time, because if it didn’t it wouldn’t include feeling like _shit_ afterwards either.

Seth soars past Trey’s old place. He wonders where that guy is now, Ryan never talks about him anymore. Seth envisions him a pimp in LA, Kingpin style. Trey could’ve used a few extra pounds. (Maybe then Seth wouldn’t have woken up in wet sticky sheets all those times the older Atwood-brother had stayed at Casa de Cohen.)

When he passes the old Lighthouse, which has now been turned into a modern dining establishment, very art deco, Seth is sure someone is calling his name.

“Hey man!” Ryan is jogging up to him. “I was just having dinner with an investor when I saw you rolling by.” He nods his head towards the board.

“Yeah, déjà vu, dude. Just, ah, reconnecting with the Newport streets. We were the best of buddies once, you know.”

“I know, I know. It felt good seeing you like that again.”

Seth smirks. Did Ryan have too much wine?, ‘cause he’s acting all nostalgic and whatnot.

“You seemed really happy.”

Seth laughs, but it feels all different kinds of fake.

“Anyway, Ry, buddy, I’m going back to that big apple tomorrow, so if you want another taste of the mansex, why don't you call me later. Now I’m gonna roll on home. You go smooth up that investor of yours.” He’s surprised himself of just how bitter he sounds.

He kicks off and ignores Ryan who's calling his name again. When he gets back to the house, his parents have fallen asleep in the sofa. Seth turns off the DVD-player and puts the popcorn bowl in the dishwasher. He takes a shower, and dries off in his room while listening to an old Walkmen-album. It sounds all nostalgic and whatnot.

 

Ryan does call, around half past eleven.

“You can come over,” Seth says. “The ‘rents are asleep in front of the TV.”

Ryan is in his room not fifteen minutes later.

“Earlier tonight, and last night too, what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Seth says and pulls of his t-shirt.

“Seth, what are you doing?”

“Collecting my last present before Chrismukkah is over. Metaphorically speaking.”

But when Seth starts tugging at Ryan’s shirt, Ryan tells him to stop, and they both sit down on Seth’s bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you broke up with Pete?”

“What difference does it make?”

 

::

_”What difference does it make?”_

_“A lot. Seth, I’ve got to give it to you in private.”_

_“Fine, fine,” Seth grins. Damn, he loves Chrismukkah. And Ryan’s present must be pretty special if they need to be alone for him to give it to Seth. “Poolhouse?”_

_When they're inside and Ryan has turned off all lights, they sit down on the bed._

_“So what is it?” Seth asks._

_“Here’s the thing,” Ryan says, and he sounds a little breathless, Seth notices. “I’ve missed you. Not seeing you for all these months… I dunno, man.”_

_“I know dude, I’ve been going crazy too.”_

_“And now Chrismukkah is almost over and we’re both going back to college and we won’t meet for another couple of months… I wanted to give you the perfect present.”_

_“Dude, that’s cool. You could give me chewing gum and I’d be happy.”_

_“Now you tell me?” They grin. “But then I realized there’s only one thing I want to give you. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. So...”_

_Seth’s sweating. It’s all really weird. And then Ryan is kissing him. And that’s really good._

_They’re alone in a dark poolhouse, and the holidays are coming to an end, and they’re going back to college soon on opposite sides of the country, but they’re totally jerking each other off, and Seth’s thinking that he never wants this to end. If there’s one thing in his life that he wants to stick around for ever and ever, it’s Ryan Atwood.  
_

::

 

“We need to stop this,” he says then, and Ryan sighs and it sounds so desperate, so helpless.

“It has been going on for way too long, and I’m not fucking okay with it,” Seth continues. Ryan seems to shrink in on himself on the bed next to Seth. “It’s fucking breaking me.”

He can hear Ryan’s swallowing. His Adams apple bobs up and down.

Seth lies back on his bed. He can see Ryan’s white back in the otherwise dark room.

“I love you, do you know that?” Seth says, loud and clear, but Ryan’s not answering. Not that that is surprising to Seth.

“I love you so much, and I always have, from the first day you walked in and played PS with me over breakfast. ‘You know what I like about rich kids?’ BAM! ‘Nothing,’ and I loved you. All the lady-drama, I still loved you. E-mailing through junior year, still loved you. But if we don’t stop doing this, whatever this is, I won’t be able to love you anymore. And I like loving you, Ry. I really do.”

Ryan lies down too. His eyes are closed. Seth keeps talking to him, softer now.

“I like loving you, because you’re probably the coolest guy I have ever met. And you _get_ me, which is a real fucking accomplishment. So when they all say that I should just forget about this, I say I can’t - and I don’t want to forget about you, because I love you. And the sex, I love that too, but it just needs to stop, ‘cause if it doesn’t, I’m gonna become bitter, and angry, and I won’t be able to love you anymore.”

Seth kisses Ryan’s forehead, then curls up next to him. He doesn’t know who falls asleep first, but it’s probably him.

 

Seth wakes up first, for once. He drags his feet into the kitchen to make some coffee. Sandy comes in and starts to schmear a bagel.

“The skateboard didn’t brake?”

“Worked like magic on my jaded mind, father. I think I have to bring it to the City.”

“You do that.”

Seth pours them both a cup. Black and strong.

“Like Spawn,” Seth mumbles.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“So… Ryan spent the night?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“His car is blocking the driveway.”

“Right. I’m sure he’ll be up any minute.”

“Oh, no worries.” He looks at Seth. “How are you, son?”

Seth shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Tell your father. I you can’t talk to me, then who?”

Seth chuckles. “'Oh I don’t know. Mom, Ryan, that tree over there?'”

They have some more coffee.

“I feel so drained. Tired. Everything is speeding like 3000 miles an hour at home, I mean, in New York, and when I come here it’s like… Time stops. I move backwards.”

“And Pete?”

“It was just a question of time and energy. He's not been good for a while. Always out. I mean it’s fun, but I feel so hollow after a while. I've _felt_ so hollow for a while.”

“Drugs?”

“From time to time. Nothing serious. It’s New York, you’ve lived there.”

When Seth looks at Sandy, both their faces serious, he can actually see for once just how old his father is becoming. It scares him a bit.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m addicted. But Pete kind of is. And... I can’t deal with that. I thought I could for a long time, but lately I've only been wanting to leave. Wanted out. He’s too far gone. I told him to check himself in, he refused, and then I changed the locks on my door.”

“I’m sorry,” Sandy says and clasps his son’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me too. But I feel like now is the time for changes. You know?”

They hug. It feels good, Seth thinks. Simple, solid.

When he looks up, he sees Ryan in the doorway. His shirt is wrinkled and his hair is mussed. Seth’s fingers feels all tingly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

“I gotto go,” Seth says. “Plane to catch.”

His bag is standing in the hallway but before he can grab it, Ryan is carrying it to the car.

“I thought I would drive you,” he says. Seth shrugs and goes back inside to hug his mother good bye.

“Next time you stay more than just a couple of days,” his parents tells him, and he nods and promises.

 

They listen to that old mix CD on the ride to the airport. Seth takes heavy breaths of Californian air, and feels relieved when he realizes he misses the East Coast version. His Newport dose is over, and it's good to be heading home again. Home to his apartment, his studio, the February cold and his winter coat, his friends.

“I love you too,” Ryan says all of a sudden.

“Don’t say that,” Seth exclaims. “Don’t fucking say that when you’re a married man!”

“I do! And you were the one who started fucking around first.”

“You were the one who said we weren't a couple.”

“We weren’t. We aren’t. But we could’ve been.”

“Sure sure, you would’ve told the parents?”

Ryan removes his Armani shades and turn towards Seth.

“I would have. If I’d known that was what I wanted. But I understood that too late.”

“Eyes on the road Ry, watch out!”

Ryan turns his eyes back to the road just in time to avoid a Jeep speeding by a little too close.

“It _is_ too late,” Seth states when they pull over to the side of the road.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re married, I just got out of a really destructive relationship, I live in New York…”

“I don’t care, Seth. I don’t want you to stop loving me either, because then I might stop loving you.”

Seth looks at him. It makes no sense. And then he sees something under his sleeve, something he missed last night, probably because he never got Ryan undressed… A worn-out brown leather wristcuff. Seth blinks.

“Come with me then.”

It is genuinely a bad idea, Seth supposes. But then again, maybe it's the best idea ever, who fucking knows. They've tried others. Maybe they should just try each other for once.

Ryan looks absolutely terrified, but he nods. Takes up his cell phone, and while the airport continues to get closer and closer, he tells his assistant that he’ll be gone from work for a while. Personal emergency, needs some time off. Could go on for a few days, maybe weeks, he’s not sure. The Wilson-files are in his top drawer, he'll e-mail the rest by Thursday.

Seth calls the ‘rents. “Ryan’s coming with me to New York, don’t worry.” They won’t, but they wonder why.

“We're not totally sure, but we’ll tell you when we are.”

Ryan’s holding the phone in a tight grip. “I should call Amanda.”

“Yeah."

He dials and it's ringing, but then there's an answering machine.

“Hey 'Manda, it’s me. I’m going to New York for a while. With Seth. I don’t know when I’ll be coming home… But I should, I should say… Um. I’m sorry. I don't know how to say this. But we should get a divorce. Sorry. I'm sorry.”

He’s looking at the phone in his hand. “I’m such an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Seth agrees. Ryan nods.

Then they kiss, and Seth smiles, just a little. Because Ryan’s an asshole, but he's _Seth's asshole_.

 

...oh shut up.


End file.
